


Um, Would You Like to Dance?

by Zephyr0



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyr0/pseuds/Zephyr0
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are both bored and dateless at prom. They might as well squeeze in a dance to pass the time.





	Um, Would You Like to Dance?

“Are American proms normally this dull?” Huffing, Arthur collapsed into the chair across from Alfred. He dropped his head into his hand, propping his elbow up on the table to gaze back at Alfred with glazed eyes. “All the songs they’re playing are utter shite.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “What, because it’s not the Beetles?”

Arthur frowned. “Pardon?”

Alfred repeated his question, louder this time. The pop song the DJ played screamed through the room, loud enough to make the floor vibrate. Neon green, yellow, and purple lights darted through the dark room, illuminating the two teenage boys with different colours.

Arthur scowled. “Oh yes, I forgot you consider this rubbish high quality.”

Alfred snorted. “Whatevs, dude.”

Whilst Arthur squawked at Alfred’s ‘butchery of the Queen’s language’, Alfred stifled a chuckle and reached for his glass of coke. It was his third glass in an hour, and it was now hall full. He took a sip.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Arthur asked.

Alfred shrugged. “Nah, I’m cool. I’m fine just chilling here. You?” He didn’t want to dance, because it’ll look awkward if he just danced by himself. Alfred had forgotten to ask someone to prom, and unfortunately, all the other kids he knew already had a partner, so he was left with no date. But he still didn’t want to miss this high school experience.

Arthur also didn’t have a date. He was meant to go with their other friend Francis, but Francis came down with the flu last night and was currently sick in bed, feverish and puking. Arthur decided to still come along, because he wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

And, judging by his frown and scowl, Alfred guessed Arthur wasn’t impressed. He sniggered.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur turned his disapproving scowl at Alfred.

“Nothing,” Alfred said lightly, still struggling to keep a straight face. “Have you spoken to Mattie? He’s not answering his phone.”

Arthur frowned. “He’s dancing.”

“Wait, what?”

“Didn’t you know your own brother had a date?”

“No!” Alfred felt a stab of betrayal: how could Mattie _not_ tell him this? “Who’s he with?”

“Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt.”

“Matt and Gilbert Beilschmidt?” Despite the shock and betrayal (really, the two shared _everything_ together, how could Matt fail to bring it up?), a grin still spread across Alfred’s face. This was interesting news, and as soon as Alfred saw Matt later he was going to enjoy teasing him.

“How have you not noticed?” Arthur snorted, his voice breaking Alfred out of his thoughts.

“I dunno! He didn’t tell me!”

Arthur sighed. “I’m not even surprised, at this point.”

“Huh?”

“You. You’ve always been terrible at observing. And you can’t read the atmosphere.”

“Of course I can’t! I can’t find that book anywhere! Seriously, bro, just tell me the author’s name!”

Arthur snorted with suppressed laughter. “Oh, Alfred.”

Alfred pouted. One day, he was going to find this atmosphere book, and prove everyone that he _could_ read it.

The two were quiet for a moment, and then Alfred said, “Sorry, bro. This really sucks.”

“What does?”

“Francis isn’t here.”

“Oh.” To Alfred’s surprise, a small smile danced across Arthur’s face. Something inside Alfred’s stomach fluttered at the sight and he grabbed his drink, raising it to his lips with a shaky hand in an attempt to distract himself.

 _Mmm, coke,_ he thought. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur gazed at Alfred’s shaking hand; his knuckles had even turned white.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” But Alfred didn’t feel fine. His mouth had gone dry and he licked his lips. His eyes darted past Arthur and towards the dance floor. Couples pressed together as they weaved amongst the crowds, and a couple teachers stood on the sidelines, talking amongst each other and clutching glasses of soda.

“It’s unfortunate you didn’t get a partner.” Arthur’s voice jerked Alfred out of his thoughts.

He looked back at Arthur. Arthur's face was partly shadowed by the neon lights, but Alfred could still make out pink cheeks. A couple strands of his blond hair fell against his forehead, rebelling against the gel keeping it combed back off his face. When he first saw Arthur tonight, he almost did a double take, because Alfred was so used to seeing Arthur with messy, choppy blond hair, and he was pretty sure this was the first time he had seen his best friend with neater hair. He was surprised Arthur had combed it back because it made Arthur's bushy eyebrows more noticable—Alfred noticed he was self-conscious about them. Not that he minded the change, though. Alfred thought Arthur looked cute, both with messy hair and gelled hair. 

 _Wait, cute?_ Where had that thought come from? He shook his head, telling himself he was being stupid. 

“What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?”

Alfred blinked, realising he had been staring. His gaze darted away, his mouth dry and his cheeks growing hot. He had been feeling weird things about his best friend for a few months now and he didn’t understand why or what they meant.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Alfred said. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m bored to death.” 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be daft. You’ve been looking forward to prom for years. We’re staying. We’re not leaving until you get  _one_ dance in.”

Alfred shrugged. “With who? I don’t wanna dance with myself. I’ll look like a loser.”

They fell silent and Arthur stared at his hands folded into his lap, biting his bottom lip. Alfred kept his gaze down, strumming his fingers against the table and squirming in his chair. And then, after a long moment, Arthur took a deep, shaky breath, lifting his gaze for a second before averting it to the table again.

“Do you want... want to... um...” His cheeks darkened.

Alfred tilted his head to one side. “What?”

Arthur gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Would you want to… dance… with me?”

Alfred’s mouth fell open as he stared at Arthur, his brain short-circuiting. Arthur wanted to  _dance_ with him? The image of him and Arthur pressed together, hands clasped as they slow danced leapt into Alfred’s mind and a hot tingle rushed through his body, making him shiver.

The silence stretched on too long and Arthur shook his head, moving to get up, refusing to meet Alfred’s eyes. “Forget it, pretend I never said-”

“Okay.”

Arthur jumped and his gaze met Alfred’s. Alfred blinked slowly, surprised that the word had tumbled out of his mouth so easily. He coughed, doing his best to keep his voice level, not wanting Arthur to know his heart raced a little at the thought of dancing with his best friend. “I’ll dance. W-with you, I mean.”

They were quiet again, with Arthur still staring at Alfred like a deer caught in headlights. Alfred pushed his chair back and staggered to his feet, almost tripping over them as he made his way over to Arthur and grabbed his hand. Upon contact, another shiver raced up Alfred's spine and the skin on his hand tingled. 

They had held hands once before: in seventh grade, Alfred dragged Arthur into the haunted house ride at an amusement park. Alfred, being the hero he was and wanting to make sure Arthur didn't get scared (Alfred himself totally wasn't scared), grabbed Arthur's hand without thinking. They forgot they were holding hands until they got off the ride and their friends laughed and teased them about being gay. Alfred remembered Arthur blushing and looking at Alfred in a weird way, but Alfred laughed it off and claimed he was straight—he wasn't ready to come out of the closet yet about liking both girls and boys—and then Arthur refused to speak to him for a whole week. That sucked big time, and even after all these years Alfred still didn't understand what he did that had pissed Arthur off. But even after they made up, neither mentioned the haunted house incident again. 

But now, something about holding Arthur's hand felt different. Sure, Arthur's hand was smaller and just as warm as back then, but now it felt a little rougher and holding it tonight made a warm, fuzzy feeling rise inside Alfred's chest. He gazed down at their hands, unable to tear his gaze away. 

"A-Alfred?" Arthur stared at him, his face scarlet. 

Alfred jolted out of his thoughts, blushing harder. "Uh... ah..." Without another word, he tugged Arthur towards the dancing couples. They stopped just short of the crowd and Alfred turned to face Arthur, but he still couldn't look Arthur in the eye. "Um, I'm... I don't know how to do this."

Arthur seemed to know what Alfred was referring to. He sighed, hooking his arm around Alfred's back and pulling Alfred flush against him. Alfred's heart lurched from the movement. He suddenly became aware of his own body as it pressed against Arthur's. 

"Just follow my lead," Arthur whispered into Alfred's ear, his breath tickling the side of Alfred's face.

Alfred snaked his arm around Arthur's waist as Arthur moved his hand up to Alfred's shoulders. They clutched their other hands together as they started swaying in time with the other couples; Alfred following Arthur's lead as Arthur had instructed. Alfred's face felt like it was on fire. His heart pounded, hard enough he was scared Arthur could somehow feel it. He bit the inside of his mouth and stared over Arthur's shoulder, unable to look at Arthur right now. Arthur felt  _amazing_ pressed against him, hell, he even  _smelt_ amazing, and all Alfred could think of was how he wanted to stay like this forever, how  _right_ it felt for them to be doing this, standing so close. 

"Ouch, watch your feet, you oaf," Arthur whispered again, but there was no bite in his words. Instead, Arthur was smiling. Alfred’s breath caught in his throat and he stared at Arthur's smile, with that same warm tingle rushing through him.  

"Sorry," Alfred said after a moment. And then, their eyes locked. Something inside Alfred's chest sizzled and he couldn't stop staring back at Arthur and he realised Arthur had never looked so beautiful before, green eyes alight, blond hair gleaming under the lights, cheeks still red and his lips so close— _God,_ so close, it would be so easy for Alfred to close the gap between them and his lips against Arthur’s-

And then everything fell into place and Alfred’s mind clicked with realisation.

He was in love with Arthur.

“Arthur,” he whispered, unsure what else to say. Arthur continued gazing back at him, a small frown crossing his face, as if wondering why Alfred was acting weird. The hope of Alfred's feelings being returned clambered inside Alfred's chest—after all, it had been  _Arthur_ who had asked him if he wanted to dance. But as they continued dancing, with Alfred unable to stop staring now, a sad look flittered across Arthur's face and Arthur grew stiff in Alfred's arms and Arthur leaned away.

“I need to get out of here,” Arthur said.

Alfred stopped dancing, resisting the urge to reach up and stroke Arthur's cheeks; the sad look on Arthur's face made Alfred's heart hurt. “Okay.” He let go of Arthur and Arthur staggered away from him, pushing through the crowd.

Alfred followed him, eyes raking up and down the hall, narrowed against the low lighting. Where had Arthur gone?

He saw a flicker of movement near the back door.

 _Arthur?_ Alfred thought. He hurried towards the door, pushing it open. What was going on?

Arthur stood on a balcony, leaning against the railing. He stared across at the baseball pitch and science block, the icy wind whipping at his hair and clothes. Even from back here, Alfred could see him shivering.

“Arthur?” Alfred closed the door behind him and walked towards his best friend.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. He gripped the railing, his knuckles white. “I… I just couldn’t do that anymore. I'm so sorry.”

“Do what anymore?” Alfred walked up beside him. Their shoulders brushed against each other. He loved the sensation and found he couldn’t move away to create space between them. He resisted the urge to reach up and wrap his arm around Arthur’s shoulders to draw him in even closer.

Arthur didn’t reply.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” Alfred said, nudging Arthur’s shoulder with his.

Arthur turned to look at him, frowning. Alfred noticed the crease in between his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing,” Arthur muttered after a moment. “I’m just being an idiot.”

Alfred frowned, taken aback at Arthur’s words. Arthur  _never_  called himself an idiot. He opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur continued, “Don’t you worry about me. I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

Arthur turned to walk away, but then Alfred reached forward, grabbing his wrist. “Hey.”

Arthur turned around. Alfred stared back at him. “You can tell me. What’s wrong?”

A long moment passed between them and Arthur snatched his wrist out of Alfred’s; Alfred didn’t even realise he had been holding Arthur’s wrist until Arthur had pulled it out of his grasp.

“Who did _you_ want to dance with?” Arthur said, after a long moment. He kept his gaze on the ground.

Alfred gazed at him, confused. Was this a trick question? “What do you mean?”

“If you had to choose anyone, who would you go with?”

Alfred hesitated, not wanting to admit to Arthur he would’ve wanted to go with Arthur. But it seemed as if he hesitated too much because Arthur then shook his head and let out a soft sigh, glancing away with a frown.

“You got stuck with me instead,” he said, his voice quiet, so quiet Alfred barely heard him.

Alfred grabbed him by the shoulders and Arthur yelped in surprise.

“I didn’t  _get stuck_ with you,” he hissed, staring at Arthur incredulously. “You’re my best friend. I said yes back then. If I didn’t  _want_ to dance with you, I would’ve said no.”

“But why  _did_ you dance with me?” Arthur wrenched himself free from Alfred’s hands and moved a few inches back, staring back at him. "You didn't answer my original question."

Alfred’s heart shot into his mouth. He wanted to lie; he  _should_ lie, he had no way of knowing how Arthur would react if he knew the truth. Alfred knew his best friend was gay and Arthur knew Alfred was bi, but still, why would Arthur be interested in him?  _Arthur_ was the one always going on about how stupid Alfred was. 

The silence continued stretching between them and Arthur’s shoulders slumped. Arthur gritted his teeth and turned away. “Huh. I should’ve known.” He moved to step towards the door and Alfred lurched forward.

“I…”

Arthur paused, hand reaching for the door handle.

Alfred’s hands shook, and he stared at the ground. “I… I…. you…” His tongue felt heavy, useless. God, why did it have to be so damn  _difficult_ to say a small word?

To his luck, Arthur stood there, waiting for Alfred to continue.

Alfred swallowed hard, tasting something weird at the back of his throat.  _Say it! Say it! Come on, just do it!_ He closed his eyes, heart racing, tipping his head to the sky. Then he took another deep breath and, still keeping his gaze away from Arthur, muttered, “You."

Arthur stared, his expression blank. "Me?"

_Yes, you completely oblivious idiot! You!_

And then that blank look shifted into a frown. "Why me?"

Damn, Arthur wasn't making it easy for him. Alfred's breathing shuddered, and he fought to keep his voice steady. "Because... I... I love you.”

There. It was out there.

Arthur stared at him. “You love me.” It sounded like an accusation.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Arthur stepped closer and closer. Alfred swallowed thickly, wondering what Arthur was planning on doing. Then he lunged for Alfred and Alfred took a step back in alarm, worried that Arthur would hit him. But instead, Arthur hooked his arms around Alfred’s neck and was  _hugging him._

“You idiot,” he said with a huff. “You dense, oblivious, handsome idiot. I’ve been in love with you since sixth grade.”

“Oh.” Alfred fell silent as Arthur pulled away from him. They stared at each other for a long moment, Alfred’s heart pounding, Arthur’s eyes wide. Alfred swallowed and forced himself to take a step closer and before he knew what was happening, his fingers were tangling in Arthur’s soft hair and Arthur was gripping his shoulders and their lips brushed together in a kiss. Alfred's heart lurched and he ran his hands down Arthur's back, warmth flooding through his body. Arthur's breath smelt like soda, and-

"Wait a minute!" Alfred jerked back, breaking the kiss short. "So that means... the haunted house thing, from seventh grade? You were in love with me, even back then?"

Arthur gazed at the floor, as if ashamed, and nodded. 

"Dude, you should've said something!"

"Say what? You said you were straight."

Alfred blinked slowly. So  _that_ was why Arthur hadn't spoken to him for a week! But as the realisation sunk in, a shiver raced down his spine. He closed the distance between them, crushing Arthur into a hug. 

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, before slowly wrapping his arms around Alfred.

"I'm sorry," Alfred said, running a hand up and down Arthur's back. "I didn't mean to break your heart. I... I had no idea, truly. I never would've had..." He broke off, swallowing thickly. 

"It's fine," Arthur said, moving back a little so they could look at each other. "What... what about you, though? When did you... you know...?"

"Ah." Alfred peered down at Arthur, smiling. Arthur looked so cute, his cheeks flushed and looking awkward. "I'm... I'm not sure, to be honest. I only realised tonight."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey!"

"What?"

Alfred sighed, shaking his head. He was about to give a snarky retort, but then a grin spread across his face. "Wait a minute, did you call me handsome just before?"

Another blush spread through Arthur's cheeks. "I did no such thing!"

Alfred laughed, not believing him. He moved his face closer to Arthur's, gazing at Arthur's lips. "Wanna continue what we started?" He moved his head even closer, their noses brushing against each other's, and their lips now inches apart.

Arthur nodded. "About time," he mumbled, then closed the gap between them. 

 

 


End file.
